Sleeping Severus
by I M Sterling
Summary: Severus Snape is under a sleeping spell. Hermione takes shameless advantage. PWP Rated M for a reason.


_**AN: Here's another bit that I wrote while trying to get over my writer's block. Caution…smutty smut with a bare hint of a plot. **_

_**As always, Harry Potter belongs to JKR.**_

He wasn't sure how long he'd endured this torture.

She came in daily, fussing with his blankets, injecting potions and nutrients…

He would demand she leave if he wasn't trapped in his own body.

The worst part was mornings. Spells emptied his bladder and bowels, and spells fed him…but they did nothing about that typical morning erection.

Instead Hermione bloody Granger bustled in, checked his bloody vitals, and smoothed his bloody sheets…and he could feel it when she noticed the first time…could hear it in her nervous chatter. Of all the bloody indignities.

She chatted on for a few moments, hands trembling as they ran over his unresponsive body. The spell that had left him in this state was unknown, so she had no way to know that he was aware in his body as she nursed his skeletal frame back to health…

And every morning he could no more stop his response than he could reach down and relieve the painful pressure.

Days passed. Her little hands ran over his body several times a day, pushing his hair out of his face, sponging him in blissfully warm water. Her voice read the latest potions journals out loud to him, discussed her theories about the spell that held him in stasis; the spell she was slowly untangling.

"The magic is complicated, but it fascinating Professor…" And she rambled on about the intricacy of the magic for half an hour while he listened.

He had little to do besides listen and allow his mind to linger on those hands…the gentle touches that simultaneously comforted him and drove him mad…the slight feeling of her breasts occasionally brushing his chest or legs…and once he could have sworn that one grazed his crotch. Something certainly had, and he was half-erect immediately. She noticed of course. She always noticed his body's traitorous admissions of the lust he harbored for her.

She washed his hair, nails lightly scraping the scalp…

He reacted to that too.

It had been years since he had allowed anyone to touch more than his hands…now the sweet smelling witch was constantly running her fingers over his forehead, down his cheeks, over his chest. The dark lord was surely laughing from whatever corner of hell he was occupying.

He was mortified when she decided that weeks of cleaning charms and sponge bathes demanded a real bath.

His manhood twitched as the protective clothing was vanished away from his body, leaving him bare and vulnerable.

He knew what she would see. His pale, skinny carcass was criss-crossed with scars…not all of them from the Voldemort wars.

She made no noise. Perhaps she had gasped when she first viewed the ruin of his body, but they were long past that now. Her fingers were as warm as the bath water as they massaged his bare feet, soaped his long shanks, and even delved into those areas where he could not imagine them: washing his arse tenderly with a soft rag and curling her little hand over his straining manhood, even lightly washing his balls. A few touches were too much for a body so long denied and so little under his control. He would have died if embarrassment if he could have when he spent in her hand.

He felt her still, heard a slight intake of breath, a tiny, nearly inaudible moan.

"Professor…I'm so sorry." Her whispered apology made no sense to him…not with her hand still wrapped around his cock and his essence spilled on her soft skin.

She cleaned up that mess like she did all of his others…with magic. Then she gently washed his back and chest, soaping the hair that dusted his pecks and the dark trail that led down to the thicker patch that cradled his balls and cock. The same cock that was rising again in the warm water under the witch's ministrations.

She finished his bath quickly. She levitated him to a table and rubbed a salve with a sharp scent of lavender into his sore back and neck, continuing to his buttocks and down his legs, working it into his feet before washing her hands and turning him over to massage his belly, chest and arms. He tried to control the response but her fingers were rubbing fiery circles into his flesh.

"Here we are Professor. I know you probably don't want my hands on you but you'll appreciate the shorter recovery time when I do manage to remove that thrice damned spell the bitch of the West shot at you."

He would have allowed himself a chuckle if he'd be able. Bellatrix had died because she took the time to shoot the spell at him in the final battle. He might have normally been able to deflect it, but antivenium left one weak. He'd been mad to hope right into battle…but he was determined to finish his task…to protect Lily's boy until his last breath.

As Harry Potter was alive and well (and came to visit far too often for Severus' taste) he supposed he'd succeeded. He never expected for the bushy haired know-it-all to be the one to try to save him…never expected anyone to save him come to that.

But she had. After the battle she'd been the one to discover that he was in a coma. She had brought him somewhere with Potter and the annoying Weasley boy's help…she had cared for him with her own hands because she decided that St. Mungo's was too dangerous.

And now she'd had her hot little hand wrapped around his cock as it sprayed his seed.

Perhaps he could pretend that he had no clue what was going on while he was bedridden.

Oh Merlin! His mind was truly in the gutter now. The image that came with 'bedridden' was hardly part of the Hippocratic oath…

And now he was swelling again as Hermione pulled him into soft underwear and trousers. She left his chest bare. It was the hottest part of the summer and their location did become somewhat warm in the afternoons. He wondered what time it was. It was hard to tell…

"I wonder if this is normal or if it's the nutrient solution." He heard her flipping through a text, undoubtedly trying to find a non-existent side effect to nutrient solutions…his libido was the result of her warm skin on his, and too many years alone.

She closed the book with a dull thud. He wanted to see that dissatisfied look on her face…the one she wore when her beloved books failed to give her the answers she sought.

Her fingers were combing through his hair now. Ah…bliss. The feeling of her gently teasing out the tangles as the hair dried.

He heard Weasley come in. He could tell it was the ginger brat because Hermione tensed…but she continued gently stroking his hair.

"Are you going to be about this all day?"

Hermione shifted slightly. The witch was angry. 

"I thought I might. You know very well that I'm trying to unravel this spell. Where's Harry?"

"With Ginny. I thought we could…"

Severus felt the oaf lean toward them, over his prone form. He spitefully wished that he could wake. He'd love to see the ginger menace's face if he were caught groping Granger.

Check that. He'd love to hex the boy for groping Granger.

The curly haired-know-it-all had taken exceptional care of him. She deserved more than some ill-mannered boy pawing her.

The sound the red head's hand being smacked away from _whatever_ area made Severus grin inside his head.

"Ron! No." Her voice dropped to a completely audible whisper. "Professor Snape may very well remember everything that happens while he's under this spell."

That idea seemed to cool the redhead's ardor.

"But Mione…"

"No."

Her tone was one of finality. Ron Weasley sulked out of the room.

Severus could imagine the relief on her face. He was glad that even his comatose state provided her a bit of his protection.

She put his head in her lap and continued to brush his hair as it dried. If Severus could have made a sound, he would have purred like a cat.

"I don't know who Ronald thinks he's fooling, honestly." He didn't particularly want to hear about another Weasley, but it wasn't as if he could politely turn the conversation elsewhere.

Besides, he was enjoying the feeling of her soft lap. And the heat…

_Oh._

_Oh my._

Yes. That's what the heat he was feeling…it was coming from her. From inside her. And his head was inches away and was presumably causing the reaction.

_Sweet Merlin on a stick._

"If I've told Ron once, I've told him a dozen times. I'm not sleeping with him."

_Excellent decision._

"I'm not sleeping with anyone until my wedding night, and I suspect it's going to be years from now." She shifted uncomfortably.

From his position on her lap he could smell the beginnings of a uniquely feminine musk…he wished he could groan…

He wished he could turn his head enough to bury his nose between her thighs. The thoughts were causing him to grow hard again. Sweet Circe. He was like a randy fourteen year old boy. He'd controlled these reactions long ago.

Apparently they'd been repressed rather than controlled.

He heard a hissing breath that indicated that she'd seen his reaction.

Another sound, completely unexpected, a combination of a moan of desire and a woman in pain, confused him.

Her hands were tensed flatly on his chest.

"Merlin." Impossible to tell if her whisper was a curse or an invocation.

She removed his head off her warm, inviting lap, and gently laid it onto the pillow.

That was it then. Like every other female he'd ever known, she'd had enough of his unruly reactions and was going to abandon him. He wondered vaguely if Weasley would be taking care of his body…he might as well cop out now if that was the case…

Then he felt her hand circling the base of his cock.

What?

The pants were removed, and his flagging interest came back full force.

"If you remember any of this…after…once you wake…" The infuriating chit didn't finish her sentence, but she was stroking his cock, so he really couldn't complain.

"Well, if you do, we'll deal with it then."

And without warning, she licked a long line down his shaft, teasing his balls lightly with her tongue. His hips would have been thrusting, but the spell held him firmly.

That didn't stop his cock from jumping each time she brushed her lips over it.

He had no idea why she did anything she did…from caring for his cursed body to wrapping her lips around his turgid member. Nothing about the girl made sense…

Whatever she was doing, it was warm and wet. He instinctively tried to open his eyes…he wanted to see, damn it. He could not.

He could feel. He could feel one warm little hand gripping the base. He could feel the other rolling his balls lightly, almost tickling…and most of all, he could feel her mouth sucking lightly up and down on his cock. He could feel silky curls that brushed his thighs.

He could imagine too…her odd brown eyes watching his face, her pink lips…in his fantasy she was undressed as well, and this was only a prelude to other things.

She was holding him firmly with both hands now, while she ran her tongue over just the head…lapping at him.

He would have warned her, had he been able to speak, but suddenly he was cumming, he had no idea how he'd gotten so close so quickly…

Thought was impossible for several moments. Hermione was licking his cock (which was valiantly trying to rise again). Sweet Circe, he would be sore if she didn't stop.

Not that he minded.

She nuzzled his leg as she pulled away, a strangely affectionate gesture, considering…well, not the circumstances, but the fact that he was Severus Snape.

He heard a slight smacking sound.

Was she? Was she licking the cum off of herself? His seed?

Merlin's saggy left breast.

He focused all his will and magic on opening his eyes. Nothing. Buggeration.

Could he move a hand?

Nothing.

He felt her hands pull his pants up.

"When you wake, I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do."

Her voice was horse.

Forget explaining. When he could move again, he was going to put a full body bind on the witch and torture _her_ for awhile…in the most orgasmic way of course. He'd bury his face between her thighs and lick and suckle until her eyes begged him for mercy.

The train of thought made his cock twitch again.

The witch saw.

"I hope that means you won't mind." There was unexpected warmth in her voice.

She sighed. "I've been putting off that last set of calculations…I think I might have a way to get you out of this mess of spells…I hope."

If Severus could have smiled, his might have grinned.

He did not doubt her abilities…and when she freed him…

Well, there would be an imbalance to set right.

_**AN: That's all I have right now. I reserve the right to add another chapter at some point if I get inspired…**_


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